The Here and Now

I need a man that can cook.
This is becoming a more and more urgent situation.

Why, you ask?

Not only am I a terrible cook, but, it has proven dangerous for me to even be in a kitchen.

I was making Tapioca.
Simple, microwavable, Tapioca.

I noticed something odd about my delicious desert as the seconds counted down.
Curious, I opened the door.

The world fell into slow-motion. My hand entered the microwave. A sputter of tapioca juice spurted from its container, foreshadowing what was to come.

Suddenly, a sonic boom filled the room. Boiling tapioca sprayed forth, instantly coating my hand, my hair, my clothing, my floor, and my table with its sticky heat.

As quickly as possible I scraped the molten confection from my skin but it was too late, the burns were already evident.

Almost a full week later I have still not recovered from sensitive and itchy 2nd degree Tapioca burns.

Anyone who thought that microwave cooking was fool-proof, obviously never met me.

This is why I need a man who can cook. Think of it as a mission of mercy. Allowing me to continue to prepare my own food could be considered criminal negligence.
So, any merciful man out there wishing to save this poor sap from her-self, I am always taking applications.